


not that bad

by Thornspun



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 01:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornspun/pseuds/Thornspun
Summary: He soothed her worries with kisses and distracted her fears with passionate nights and tangled sheets.And he promised her each time, “If we have each other, that’s all we need.”
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	not that bad

**Author's Note:**

> Edited - 23/3/2021 - amazing beta PeinSaku added their polish to it~

.

The train carriage rattled and rocked along the tracks, the screeching of the brakes loud and unpleasant in everyone’s ears. Most of the occupants of the early morning commute swayed with the changing momentum as the train took a sharp corner. Packed to the brim, there was no wiggle room or anywhere for people to go.

A woman with long pink hair boarded at Green-Gate station and lost her balance as soon as the train took off. Stumbling forward into the crowd of people, she caused a loud commotion and drew the glares of many.

Itachi peered over the sea of heads and frowned as he saw she had only just caught herself on the back of a seat. No one tried to help her up or assist with gathering her possessions. Instead, she bent over and gathered her things before heaving herself up, mumbling a soft apology to the surrounding people as she reached to grip onto the overhead handrail.

It happened again at nearly every stop, but no one ever made a move to help her stand or offer her a seat. If Itachi had been closer, he would have done so in a heartbeat, but at the other end of the carriage, he was stuck. It’d take him longer to make it through the swarm than it would for her to get up on her own.

At the next stop, though, she fell backwards into the crowd, and there was the usual scuffle of grunts and shouts of annoyance. Itachi glimpsed her front, and the breath left his lungs just as quickly as he left his seat, feet propelling him forward in a rush to help.

He ignored the cries of protest as he hurried past. Reaching her, he studied her for any sign of injury before he crouched down and offered a hand. “Are you alright, miss?”

She glanced up at him with watery green eyes. Her lip trembled, but she accepted his hand, and he helped her up. His other hand automatically came out to cup her rounded middle. “Miss?” he prompted again.

Her cheeks went red as she broke eye contact, dipping her chin. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for helping me.”

He took a step back, sensing that she needed the space, and went about gathering her bags back up for her. She dusted off her jacket and gripped a handrail again with one hand, reaching for her belongings with the other. Itachi caught her hand before she could grab the bags and shook his head.

She frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance to as he pulled her with him. Weaving and twisting through the masses, they arrived back at his seat. He grabbed his bag and gestured for her to sit.

Her eyebrows rose, and again she looked like she was about to argue, but her shoulders sagged, and relief quickly flooded her face. She lowered herself gingerly into the seat and shot him a small smile.

Itachi felt himself lurching and grabbed for the handrail himself. Placing his bag between his legs, he pulled out his phone and resumed clearing out his inbox. Halfway into typing a reply, he noticed that the woman had pulled out her own phone and appeared much more relaxed. Allowing himself a small smile, Itachi looked away before she caught his eye.

A few stations later, a gentle voice came through the speaker, letting him know it was time to disembark. The surrounding crowd departed en masse, this stop the most popular on the line: Konoha Central Business District. He grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder, adjusted his coat, then reached into his pocket to grab his travel pass. He took one step, and a soft tug at the edge of his coat made him pause and look back at the woman.

Green met black, and another watery smile bloomed. “Thank you.”

Itachi nodded and made for the doors, not wanting to address the flutter of his heart or the reason why her smile filled him with a deep and overwhelming sadness.

.

The following week, he kept to the same routine.

He hopped on the train line early, snagged a seat, and gave it up when he spotted pink hair entering the third carriage from the back. He’d stand, wave, and send a glare to silence any surrounding complaints.

She’d shuffle her way through the crowds, bow her head, and offer a small smile of thanks as she took his seat. His heart would then skip a beat, and he’d quickly sever eye contact and busy himself with his phone. That small smile, though, it made the discomfort of standing well worth it.

By Friday, red cheeks in her presence became the norm as she brushed against him to reach the seat, most notably the time she’d stumbled and grabbed onto him for support. But it didn’t just end there, because he’d also gained something else as he made for his stop.

“I’m Sakura by the way,” she called out over the shuffle of passengers and announcements.

He’d paused and looked over his shoulder, then returned her smile with a small one of his own. “I’m Itachi.”

.

He caught the train home as well, the very last service of the day. There was no need to fight for seating. But the familiar head of pink hair pulled him up short. Tucked away at the back, Itachi made his way up and slid in next to her.

Her head was propped up against the window, and she appeared to be fast asleep. He nudged her with his elbow, and she jolted away. “Ah, what stop--” She spotted him and frowned. “Itachi? What are you doing here?”

He placed his bag down on the seat next to him and turned to face her. “I’m catching the train home after work. And you?”

She looked down at her lap, hair falling to cover her face. “Same.”

He frowned. “You finish work this late?”

She brought a hand up to tuck the hair behind her ear. “Yeah, it’s the only job I’ve been able to get, so I don’t have much of a choice, you know. I need the money.” She glanced down at her stomach and then up to meet his eyes.

He nodded in understanding and left it at that. It was not his place to judge or ask her any further questions. They travelled in silence until they reached her stop, and as she stood to leave, she shot him a tentative smile.

“See you in the morning, yeah?”

“See you then.”

.

More weeks passed, and he slowly learned more about Sakura over late night and early morning conversations. They even exchanged numbers at one point, texting to let one another know if they wouldn’t make the train or if they were running late and would be on the next service. More often than not, it was a way for Itachi to accompany her on the ride home. Ever since a mugging had been reported on the Konoha line, he’d been extra cautious about checking in with Sakura.

Under the flickering lights and dark tunnels, they exchanged life stories. She was nineteen and had a baby on the way - five months to go. Her pink hair was natural and recessive, so her baby would hopefully skip out on that genetic quirk. She craved tempura like nothing else.

The father had left her when he had found out she was pregnant. Her parents wanted her to get rid of it, but she refused, so she now planned to raise her child solo with the help of some friends.

She’d been in her last year of medical school, but with the change in priorities, she had rearranged her life completely. After switching her degree to something much less intensive, she now spent her mornings attending classes at the community college in the city and her evenings washing dishes and doing other various odd jobs. It was a struggle to make ends meet and also save up for the new baby, but things were tracking well.

By comparison, Itachi admitted his life was easy.

He was twenty-three and made more money than he knew what to do with. He lived so far out because he adored the countryside and couldn’t bring himself to move closer to the city. His late uncle had gifted him the home upon his passing, and Itachi had lived there ever since.

He was in a committed relationship with his job at his family’s law firm. The days were long, twelve hours or more, but he loved the challenge and the opportunity to help others. His father planned to step down within five years, and they’d tapped Itachi to take on the mantle. More often than not, though, he forgot to feed himself, his mind too focussed on the details of his work.

Sakura seemed to catch onto this as well, as one morning she shoved a bright yellow container into his hands as they exchanged seats.

Itachi blinked and looked down at the offensively loud box. “What is this?”

Sakura beamed. “Your lunch.

Itachi tried to speak but could think of nothing to say. Humbled in the best way, he slid the box into the pocket of his coat and nodded his thanks.

The following evening, she also provided him with some leftovers she had scored from the diner she worked at. “Here, I know it’s not much, but knowing you…” She bit her lip and hesitated before continuing, “Knowing you, I bet you didn’t have any lunch.”

He stared down at the container of noodles and melted through to his core. The kindness she was capable of seemed to know no bounds. He truly didn’t know how to thank her for thinking of him, or even how to acknowledge the desire, so he settled for the next best thing: stooping down, he placed a small peck on her cheek, then ate the contents of the container as they waited for the train to arrive.

When the train pulled up, they took their usual seats, and as soon as it pulled out from the station, she was sound asleep, head resting on his shoulder until he woke her to get off for her stop.

.

They spoke of endless topics, from what the world would be like if technology had never been invented to their hopes and desires. She was convinced her luck would change. It would be worth it one day to see her child flourish. She knew more than anyone the world was not kind, and Itachi never ceased to be amazed at this view.

And when their conversations came to a close, an ache flooded his chest, sorrow drenching his mind. When he had to say goodbye, the words sounded forced, and he hated them. He never wanted her to go.

But the promise of seeing her the next day always washed that thought away and eased the ache of coming home to an empty house.

.

He noticed, over time, as she battled motion sickness from the sharp turns on the morning commute, so he always carried some barley sugar in his coat pocket. And as she clung onto the train for dear life with one hand at each corner, he held onto the other, and she gripped it tight. It soon became a natural thing, a quick hand squeeze hello and goodbye. Letting her fall asleep on his shoulder came next. The regular pecks of thanks on her cheek for lunch followed that. The warm smiles just for her. Ignoring the growing list of emails to discuss her day and her world.

Sometimes it would be more. She’d send him a heated glance, and, without thinking, his own desire would rise up until he squished it back down. When she snatched up his hand and brought it to her swollen stomach, telling him to feel the baby kick, Itachi knew he was in love.

.

One night, the train lines stopped running early, ending at Sakura’s stop.

Itachi sighed heavily and pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he tried to think of who he could convince to come out this far to pick him up. A small pale hand reached out to cover the screen.

“You can come back to mine and wait for someone there.”

He understood what she had said, but the heated look in her eyes, the same one he knew he gave her from time to time, spoke of something else. He nodded and allowed her to pull him up and out of the train, down the street, and into her small one-bedroom apartment.

The lights were off, and she didn’t bother to turn them on as she shut the door. There was a slight pause in the dark, but then small fingers found his shirt and tugged him closer. Their mouths met and tongues danced as clothes were shed, and they found their way to her couch.

The only sounds after that were their panting and the rough slide of skin against skin. Her moans and his groans as they reached the peak of pleasure again and again.

He spent that night, and many more nights that followed, with his back pressed up against a dry concrete wall as he held her close in her tiny double bed. His feet hung off the edge, and she hogged all the blankets. The heating didn’t work.

But he always made an excuse to spend the night: he was too tired to make the trip all the way home; he needed to get into the city earlier, and he could catch the express at her stop; he wanted to make sure that she had someone to walk her to the hospital the next morning for her appointment.

In truth, he only wished to hold her. He held her as she cried about failing a class, when she lost one of her jobs and found out her funding for college had been cut in half. In the dark, she confessed her fears of not being ready to be a mother. She was barely holding her life together, so how was she meant to be responsible for another?

He soothed her worries with kisses and distracted her fears with passionate nights and tangled sheets. And he promised her each time, “If we have each other, that’s all we need.”

.


End file.
